


Sleeping Habits

by Manuka



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27883783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manuka/pseuds/Manuka
Summary: The Herald's sleeping habits are strange, to say the least.
Relationships: Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Male Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Male Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 14
Kudos: 68





	Sleeping Habits

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to my dear Evil Keshi and Talvi for proofreading, I can't thank you both enough for your help and kindness!  
> Also, Talin, this is for you: thank you so much for the love you have for my Lavellan, I hope you will like it ♥

The first time Cassandra came to him asking if he knew where the Herald was, Cullen was more preoccupied with the training of the new recruits than what the elf was doing with his spare time.

“I’ve looked around all Haven, there is no sign of him anywhere!”

“He might be exploring the surroundings” he suggested, focused on the soldiers who were warming up.

Cassandra groaned, pinching her nose.

“I wish he would stop vanishing without telling anyone” she sighed. “He doesn’t realise we could need him at any moment.”

Cullen shifted his gaze to her: The Seeker seemed more upset than worried. He turned his attention back to his men.

“He can’t have gone far. His halla is still here, isn’t he? He wouldn’t leave without him.”

Cassandra frowned and folded her arms.

“That is not what I was suggesting. You do not go on missions with him, you have no idea how he acts on the fields. He can be distracted by anything, even elfroot. Mostly elfroot.”

The Seeker left soon after, and Cullen had gone back to work.

A few hours later, he saw the elf coming to him, looking at the troops with interest. Cullen knew what was going to happen: since the Herald of Andraste had officially joined the Inquisition, a ritual of a sort had begun. The elf would observe from afar a few more minutes, and then join him with a confident smile on his lips, asking him more questions, whether it was about training, Templar’s life or something else. One would think he had an insatiable curiosity and absolutely no sense of privacy.

Cullen wasn’t the only victim of the young man’s questions. Apparently, everyone, with no exception, had to face it, and everyone was patient enough to answer, even if said questions were too personal. They all supposed his dalish origins were the cause, he didn’t have much contact with the outside world after all.

Solas was the only one who seemed to genuinely appreciate the curiosity of the other elf. From what Cullen had heard, they spent some time together every day to talk about the Fade, about magic, and Adraste knew what other topic.

The Herald apparently decided to come closer and Cullen watched him from the corner of his eyes. His smooth gait betrayed his origins as surely as his ears and facial tattoos.

“Hello, Commander” Aodren greeted politely, once beside him.

“Herald” he answered with a nod. “Cassandra was looking for you, earlier” he added, before the elf could say anything.

The young man stared at him briefly and took a chastened look.

“I’ll see her later, then” he said. “Thank you.”

At his voice, Cullen knew he was absolutely not sorry. He couldn’t help himself but feel amused: they were but a few who dared to face Cassandra. Apparently, he had since the beginning, even with her sword a mere inch to his chest. He still wondered if threatening the Seeker with his magic had been brave or bold.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked eventually while the Herald remained silent.

“I still have questions.”

It was only an hour later, when Aodren left to meet Cassandra, that Cullen noticed he had the crumpled clothes and dishevelled hair of someone who had just woken up.

\-----

Josephine was the one who brought up the subject while they were gathered around the war table.

“Have you seen the Herald this morning?” she asked with a small frown. “I haven't seen him since last night.”

Leliana shook her head slowly, a discreet smile on her lips. Cullen simply shrugged: he was no baby-sitter. The elf did what he wanted aside from missions and meetings… But he was missing the current one. The topics they had to review that day were not that important, but his absence was not welcomed.

“In fact, I don’t think I heard him go to bed” the ambassador added, thoughtful.

“Josie, you sleep so soundly you wouldn’t hear a herd of druffles running” Leliana teased.

Josephine made a face, slightly pouting.

“That is not true!” she protested right away.

Cullen rolled his eyes and mumbled:

“He is dalish, he can move quietly.”

“I’m certain he slept elsewhere! Although it is not my business, of course” Josephine hastily added, her cheeks now red. “He is rather handsome after all.”

While Cullen simply stared at her, Leliana chuckled blatantly.

“Do you have a crush on the Herald, Josie?”

The ambassador’s blush deepened as she tried to conceal her embarrassment by fixing her hair.

“Not at all!” she protested. “All I’m saying is that he is pleasing to the eye, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who has realised that.”

Leliana’s smug grin was wide now, and she looked like the cat that swallowed the pigeon. Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh: the two women loved gossip, whether it was out of pleasure or a professional quirk. Unfortunately, it was not his cup of tea at all.

“You have a very good point” conceded Leliana. “Don’t you agree, Commander?”

Startled by the question, Cullen stuttered:

“Well… Maybe?”

“You must admit his eyes are quite extraordinary” Leliana insisted with a smirk Cullen definitively didn’t like.

He cleared his throat and regained his composure, putting his hand on the pommel of his sword. He knew the gesture was obvious, but the habit reassured him, no matter the circumstances.

“It’s true they are of an unusual colour” he said. “But I don’t understand how the Herald’s looks is significant here.”

“You are absolutely no fun” Josephine sighed.

“I’ll look for him” he decided abruptly, turning around to walk away.

At least he wouldn’t have to put up with his two colleagues and their obsession with the Herald’s eyes. Leliana called out to him before he left the room:

“Cullen! You should try around the stables. I’m sure finding him won’t be difficult.”

“You _knew_ where he was from the beginning!” Josephine exclaimed, outraged.

Cullen decided to follow Leliana’s advice and headed to the stables. It was still quite early, but many villagers were already active. He greeted some soldiers who stood at attention when they saw him, but his mind was whirling with the previous surrealistic discussion.

In all honesty, he did understand Leliana’s and Josephine’s point of view. Aodren was handsome, in an unusual and wild way: his skin and hair were so pale, and his eyes had an incredible turquoise colour. But gossiping like that was not a professional attitude.

He arrived quickly at the stables and met master Dennet. He approached him immediately.

“My apologies, have you seen the Herald?”

The man nodded vigorously and pointed behind him with a vague gesture.

“Of course I have. He is with his halla. I believe he is still asleep.”

Cullen blinked slowly. Apparently, the day was to be entirely out of the ordinary.

“What do you mean by ‘he is still asleep’?” he asked, unsure whether he had heard well.

Dennet raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of himself.

“He spends every night here. I take it you didn’t know. Well, he looked at me with puppy-dog eyes so that I left his blankets there. As if I’d shoo him away.”

Cullen stared for a few moments, once again caught off guard. He wasn’t surprised that Leliana knew about that, it was part of her job after all. But if the elf had truly slept there since he'd arrived at Haven, he should have noticed, right?

“Thank you” he sighed eventually.

He headed to the stable where the halla was. The animal was laying down and raised his head when he heard the commander coming closer to the door. Cullen caught the halla’s big brown eyes, and then he noticed the sleeping figure curled up next to him and wrapped in a thick blanket.

Dennet didn’t lie, and he could bet Leliana was proud of herself.

The halla watched him putting his hand onto the barrier, following his movement with suspicious eyes.

“Herald?” Cullen called hesitantly.

The elf didn’t even stir. The commander cleared his throat, uncomfortable, but called louder:

“Herald? We are waiting for you at the morning meeting.”

This time, Aodren opened his eyes slowly and stared at Cullen for a few seconds, before jumping onto his feet as if he had been jabbed. The halla protested with a loud huff.

“Cullen?” the elf stuttered while dusting his clothes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

Watching him, the commander realised it was the first time he looked so embarrassed and struggling. The Herald quickly combed his short hair with his fingers, and he was soon presentable. Except for the wisp of straw struck to a strand of hair. Cullen extended his hand and took it off, the elf freezing at the gesture.

“Next time, I’ll come here directly” he simply said.

Aodren gave a faint smile, almost shyly, and yet Cullen knew that smile was far more genuine than all those he had seen before.

\-----

Falon’s stable, Aodren’s halla, was not the only weird place where the Herald used to sleep, as Cullen learned later.

They were all gathered around a hot meal and the talking was going well. The Iron Bull and Varric called the shots, each one telling about adventures they had lived or heard, making their audience laugh.

“I’ve seen many _weird_ things” the Qunari suddenly said with a laugh. “But I had yet to see someone sleep while riding.”

Cullen lifted his gaze, his spoon frozen in the air. Apparently, he was not the only one disconcerted, judging by the incredulous stares. Varric burst into laughter and Cassandra groaned.

“Right, boss?” Bull added with a pleased smile, turning his head towards the Herald.

Cullen did the same, disbelief clearly visible on his face. The elf had a horrified look, and even from where he was seated, the commander saw the point of his ears turning red.

“Bull…” Aodren whined while hiding his face behind his hands.

The Qunari hit the table with his fist, making the dishes tremble as he was laughing again.

“We were there, talking, and no answers from him” he began. “I came closer to see if everything was good, y’know? And there he was, eyes closed. I was like, shit, he fainted, or he’s hurt, but nooo!”

Aodren lifted his head, his eyes barely visible behind his fingers.

“I hate you” he grumbled, voice hushed.

The mercenary didn’t seem moved at all. He wiped his eye with his hand and went on:

“He was sleeping! Sleeping! Really, Boss, you always surprise me. But hey, we don’t get bored with you!”

The elf made a pathetic little noise, and Varric and the Iron Bull laughed again, soon joined by almost everyone.

“It’s still better than that time we looked for him for almost two hours in the middle of nowhere, right Seeker?” Varric said with a wink.

Cassandra made a face and crossed her arms. Cullen saw the Herald curl up slightly, his ears now completely red.

“That is an understatement” Cassandra answered. “Two hours calling for him and going in circles, and he was asleep on a tree.”

Aodren lowered his hands, wearing a pinched look.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve already told you I was sorry” he growled. 

“Oh no, don’t be!” Varric smirked. “It was _fun_.”

“Speak for yourself!” the Seeker exclaimed, outraged.

Seated near the commander, Dorian leaned towards Aodren, a teasing smile on his lips. The Tevinter spoke with a low voice but Cullen heard him clearly:

“You must admit your sleeping habits are quite strange, my friend” he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

The elf held his gaze, the look on his face suddenly colder.

“I sleep where I feel safe, Dorian” he retorted curtly.

Feeling he had hit a nerve without meaning to, Dorian apologized quickly. The general conversation had already changed the subject, but Cullen didn’t follow it all. He spent the rest of the dinner repeating thoughtfully to himself what he had heard. The statement of the elf had made him sad, and he didn’t understand why.

\-----

“He is going to drive me crazy!”

Hearing Cassandra barging in his chambers, Cullen lifted his head from his work. She had her usual demeanour and strong voice. She made a vague gesture with her hand, a combination of annoyance and resignation.

“Varric?” he asked, putting his quill down onto its support.

Her arrival was an unexpected but not unwelcomed interruption: official papers were piling up despite his best efforts and a distraction was quite welcome in this busy and boring day, even if he had to listen to her complaining about the dwarf.

“The Inquisitor,” she answered while sitting in front of him. “He always disappears anywhere to sleep. It is a gift, at this point. I do not understand why he does not simply sleep in his room.”

Cullen frowned slightly, thinking back to the evening a few weeks earlier when Aodren had rebuffed Dorian. He hadn’t forgotten what the elf had said back then, and he had surprised himself thinking about it regularly. Despite all this time, the Herald didn’t feel at ease around them.

“… on the roof, Cullen!” Cassandra was saying, completely disillusioned. “Do you know what he said when I told him there were places far more comfortable for him to sleep in? He said that he was looking for spots where I couldn’t find him! Am I that insensitive with him that he feels he has to sleep on the roof to avoid me?” she ended.

Her voice had taken a concerned tone. Cullen knew the Seeker had a very strong personality, but also resolute and caring. She gave him a confused look.

“I do not know what to do with him, Cullen” she confessed with a sigh. “I am really trying to give him some space, but it seems it is never enough. When we are on a mission, we get along well, but as soon as we are back here…”

He didn’t answer right away, uncertain, and put his hand to his neck in an automatic gesture.

“I don’t think it’s against _you_ , Cassandra” he eventually said. “Give him some time to get used to Skyhold. He wasn’t really at ease at Haven, Skyhold must be unsettling for him.”

Cassandra seemed reassured. She had probably already had this train of thoughts, but clearly needed someone to confirm it. She nodded slowly, her shoulders less tense.

“You are probably right. Thank you, Cullen.”

She got up, face thoughtful while the commander was grabbing his quill reluctantly.

“I will try to speak to him again. I would like him to tell someone where he sleeps, in case we need to find him in a hurry” she concluded before getting out the room.

Cullen got back to work, trying to invest himself in the reports the troops had written. The Inquisition was wanted almost everywhere, whether it was to protect villagers or to reaffirm its position towards the Fereledan and Orlesian nobilities. And that was without taking the rifts the Inquisitor had to close into account, nor the political schemes Cullen despised so much.

A light sound made him lift his head and listen carefully around. When he heard nothing, he simply took the report back. It was certainly a bird.

But when the same light rustle distracted him again a few moments later, he got up with a frown. It was coming from the mezzanine, where his bed was located. He had already chased away a pigeon who was trying to nest on his pillow some days ago. The damned bird was maybe trying his luck again while he was busy.

He got around his desk as silently as possible, quite decided to catch the animal and make it leave his quarters by force if necessary. Having a hole in his roof and Skyhold being abandoned for years were irrelevant reasons for the local fauna to set up in his room.

Moving silently with a full armour was not an easy task, but he did pretty well and he eventually reached the ladder, one step at a time. He climbed up, slowly, until he arrived next to his bed.

There was indeed an occupant in the sheets, but it was not a pigeon. Nor any other animal, actually.

Cullen stood still, frozen in disbelief, and stared at the Herald sleeping soundly in his bed. How did the Inquisitor manage to get there without him noticing? He had been in his room all day! The elf had probably sneaked in when he wasn’t looking, but why? And what was he supposed to do?

He thought briefly about Cassandra: she certainly would be pissed that Aodren had been right above her the whole time.

If Cassandra ever knew.

He remembered their conversation and he instantly took a decision: if the elf had decided to take a nap in his room, then he wouldn’t stop him, even if he had no idea why Aodren preferred his bed rather than the gigantic one he had in the Inquisitor’s quarters.

He turned around slowly, carefully retreating back to his desk, his mind whirling. Was it the first time the elf came here unnoticed? Would he come back? Should he speak to him about it or keep it to himself? Aodren might dig his heels in if he brought up the subject, even to tell him he could go on. Did Cullen want him to go on? 

He groaned slightly and rubbed his temples: he would make a decision later.

\----

Aodren did carry on and came back for naps on the commander’s bed. Cullen was rather sure the elf was sneaking in through the hole in his roof, and leaving the same way. He couldn’t find any other explanation. Considering the Inquisitor enjoyed wandering barefoot on the crenelations of the fort without looking where he was walking, it was more than believable. He had tried to listen carefully and notice when the elf arrived or left, but without success: the dalish was too discreet.

Cullen hadn’t talked to him about it yet. He had wanted to, a few times, but as soon as he had faced the intense gaze of the mage, he had given up. Aodren had seemed more at ease for some time. If his naps were the cause, he didn’t want to ruin it with his clumsiness.

He was dying to know his reasons, though. He had observed him once or twice while he was asleep, as if the sleeping face could give him answers. But he had stopped after that: he was being really awkward even if he tried to justify his actions with his concern for the inquisitor’s well-being.

The truth was he couldn’t help himself but think Aodren trusted him enough to come here to sleep. This idea alone was making him shiver with a myriad of emotions he was definitely afraid to analyse. So he stayed silent and kept this secret he had begun to cherish despite himself.

Things remained the same for weeks. When the Inquisitor was in Skyhold, Cullen knew he could find him in his bed in the afternoon. When Aodren was abroad for missions, he realised he was missing his presence upstairs. It was ridiculous, but knowing he was there and taking some rest was… calming.

They were still seeing each other every day, of course. The elf was often watching him training the recruits, and since their first game of chess, they had played together a few times.

Sometimes, he had caught Aodren watching him intensely with a thoughtful expression. Did he suspect Cullen knew about his naps? If he did, he said nothing, even when they were alone.

In any case, Cassandra hadn’t come back and complained about the daily disappearance of the Inquisitor. He didn’t ask her if they had talked to each other, but their companionship seemed far more friendly. 

The siege of the Adamant fortress changed everything.

The battle was trying, and it turned horrible when the Inquisitor and his companions disappeared in the Fade. The only one who could have had a rational explanation was Solas, and he had disappeared too.

The commander and his men had a mission to accomplish. They couldn’t panic and let all their efforts go to waste. Cullen could do nothing but plead with every hit of his sword, unable to make a coherent prayer to the Maker or Andraste except for “please, please, please”.

They eventually took back the fortress alongside the Wardens, and when Cullen realised they might have lost their leader, he heard exhilarated cries nearby. He ran, his heart beating loudly in his chest, until he saw Cassandra, Varric, Solas. He looked for Aodren, nowhere to be seen, and he felt sick. Next to him, the Seeker was frantic.

“Where is the Inquisitor? He was right behind us!”

Murmurs arose among the soldiers and Cullen remembered Haven. He remembered the way Aodren had looked when he had decided to stay behind to give them time. He had looked ready to die.

But he had already foiled fate, numerous times. He would come back. He would. He had to.

When Aodren reappeared, the relief he felt brought tears to his eyes. He was back. Once again.

The following events happened in a blurry hustle. Decisions had to be made, orders to be given, and the injured had to be tended to. The troops celebrated their return at Skyhold: despite the fallen, it was a victory.

The meal the companions and counsellors shared that evening was silent. Aodren didn’t join them.

They left one by one, each of them choosing their own way to cope with what happened.

Cullen went first to the stables, but Falon was alone. The halla looked at him with big, brown and understanding eyes. Cullen patted him briefly, then turned around and headed to the rampart walk. He was trying to take his mind off the horrors of the battle as much as to catch sight of a familiar silhouette, but failed to do both. If the Inquisitor didn’t want to be found, then he had no choice but to accept it. He decided to go back to his room, worried nonetheless.

The tears he heard when he arrived made him freeze for a few seconds. They came from upstairs, he realised quickly. He didn’t bother to climb discreetly, and soon he was in front of the Herald.

Aodren was sitting on the floor, his back leaning on the bed. His knees were pulled up against his chest and his face was hidden in his arms. His shoulders were jolting with each rough sob escaping his lips.

Cullen took a shaky breath and approached slowly. The elf looked so fragile, huddled like this. He kneeled next to him and gently put a hand on his arm.

“Aodren?” he murmured.

The dalish raised his head, his cheeks wet and his eyes swollen. Without thinking, Cullen pulled him into his arms firmly, one hand on his neck and the other on his back. Aodren let him, hanging onto his coat with shaky hands.

“I’m sorry…” he hiccupped between two sobs. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want that…”

Cullen hugged him tighter and clumsily stroked his hair. Despite his efforts, the elf was still shaking.

“Never again…” he finally whispered, the words broken and hard to let out. “I won’t let anyone sacrifice themselves for me ever again.”

Cullen felt his chest tighten almost painfully. Every day, the Inquisitor was sacrificing himself for all of them without blinking. There had already been deaths in his name and in the name of the Inquisition, at Haven and elsewhere, but it was the first time he had had to let someone die to save his own life.

“I know…” he murmured, and he let his cheek rest against Aodren’s temple. “I know.”

They stayed embraced like this until the cries of the elf dried up and he fell asleep from exhaustion. Cullen put him to bed and tucked him in before sitting next to him, ready to look after him all night if he had to.

When he woke up the next morning, Aodren had already left and the sheets were neat. Disappointed despite himself, he changed clothes and tried not to linger over the Herald’s absence. Yet, when he went downstairs, he noticed a cup on his desk alongside a brioche, both still warm. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

They saw each other mid-morning at the daily war-table meeting. Aodren still looked tired, but when he met his eyes, Cullen saw their usual shine. He answered the elf’s smile with one of his own and didn’t notice the knowing look Josephine and Leliana shared.

The day went on as usual, as if the events of the day before hadn't really happened. When Cullen went back to his room, official papers were still unfortunately piled up on his desk. He sat down with a sigh and took the first batch bravely. He got so buried in his work he didn’t realise the afternoon was already there. When he raised his head from his desk, he saw Aodren was seated in a corner, his pale eyes pointed at him.

“Inquisitor?” Cullen murmured, surprised to see him there.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday” Aodren said. “And also for these past weeks. You said nothing about me sleeping here.”

Cullen blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t expect them to talk about it after all this time. He put the paper he was holding back on his desk, giving him his attention entirely.

“You're welcome,” he answered with sincerity.

“I believe you deserve an explanation” the Herald added, his voice embarrassed.

Cullen denied immediately.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. It never bothered me.”

Aodren smiled openly and seemed more at ease.

“Thank you, again. It was very thoughtful of you not to ask me, even though I’m sure my behaviour was… inappropriate.”

He paused, looking for his words. Cullen stayed silent, curious about his motives.

“I... need more sleep. Partly because of the anchor, but also because I was not used to use so much magic so often” Aodren eventually said. “I was already sleeping in the stables at night, back at Heaven, so sneaking in during the day for a nap was easy.”

Cullen grinned slightly: he remembered the elf curled up against his halla and sleeping soundly. The Inquisitor noticed and blushed, clearing his throat.

“When we came here” he continued “I tried to go without it, at first. I failed, obviously. I started to fall asleep anywhere when we were out on missions. I couldn’t put my teammates in danger like this anymore, so I decided to look for a place to hide, in Skyhold.”

This time, Cullen frowned.

“To hide?” he repeated, unsure.

Aodren nodded and looked away, his lips pinched in a thin line.

“It is unworthy of me to need to rest like a new-born child when you all work so hard” he said, not without hesitation.

The commander stared at him, speechless. Of all the possibilities he had imagined, he never would have thought the reason why the elf acted this way was shame.

“Inquisitor…” he stuttered, astounded. “We would never have reproached you to rest…”

Aodren snorted, but it was a disillusioned laugh that was unlike him.

“Of course not, I’m the Inquisitor.”

He didn’t give Cullen time to speak and resumed quickly:

“I tried to sleep in the room that was given to me, I truly did. But even with each window wide open, I feel like I suffocate. And it’s the place people are more likely to look for me, as are the stables. I wanted a place where I could feel at ease, and safe.”

He sighed, and once again Cullen thought he almost looked frail. He had always seen the Herald be nothing but confidence and strength, and in less than two days, he was finding out a whole new facet of the elf he hadn’t suspected.

“I didn’t think about it, the first time I came here. I acted on an impulse, I was tired and I just saw the hole in the roof. I knew I would be safe. I slept better than I had in days, but I regretted it. I took advantage of your hospitality, even though you didn’t know by then. Yet… I came back.”

He stopped, and Cullen saw him swallow slightly.

“I don’t know why you let me continue, when you found out” he murmured. “But I was grateful you said nothing. I’m sorry, Cullen, I really am” he added, finally looking at him. “I know I might seem ungrateful or capricious, but…”

Cullen suddenly rose from his seat, startling the elf. He came closer to the Herald, who watched him with uncertainty, his jaw tense. He kneeled in front of the chair Aodren was seated on, both of their gazes now even.

“You are dalish. You are used to living outdoors, right? You are far from your family, your clan, and you carry a great burden none of us can fully comprehend. I don’t think you are ungrateful nor capricious, and even if you were, I think you could be considering… everything.”

He gestured vaguely to illustrate his comment. Aodren blinked slowly, clearly not expecting this.

“You never bothered me by sleeping here” Cullen added with a shrug. “I’m even glad you felt you’d be safe. You can come any time you wish.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then the elf giggled slightly, relief clearly visible on his face.

“Thank you” he said, his eyes softer. “But I already steal your bed during the day, I won’t steal it at night. You need to rest too.”

The commander felt an embarrassing blush spread on his cheeks and stuttered:

“No! I just… Well, if you need my bed, you can have it, I don’t sleep much anyway.”

Aodren offered a small and understanding smile.

“I know. I always see light coming from your room when I walk around, at night.”

Cullen stayed silent, hesitating. He never truly spoke to anyone about the nightmares plaguing his sleep and awakening him in the middle of the night, forbidding him to fall asleep again, nor about the memories twisted by fear that were still haunting him, even years after the events they were inspired by.

“I’m often reminded of Haven, when I try to sleep” the elf murmured.

Cullen felt his stomach twist slightly. It was easy to forget the dalish knew how to show empathy and sensibility, as he fought Venatori and demons nearly all day long. Yet, he knew Aodren had quite a good instinct when he had to find the right words, whether they were meant to be reassuring or hurtful.

There was no judgment in his voice nor in his eyes, only understanding and the possibility for him to talk if he wanted to.

“I do too, sometimes, along other memories” he admitted with a sigh.

This time, it was sadness he saw in the turquoise eyes, and he added quickly:

“I’m used to it though! And I have plenty of work to fill my nights when insomnia strikes.”

He showed his desk with a movement of his shoulder and gave a faint smile, trying to tone down their talk. The elf glanced towards the scattered papers before turning his attention back to Cullen.

“We call these kind of memories _dream-eaters_ ” he murmured thoughtfully. “I know there are some herbs that can help, but from what Keeper told me, these fake memories can last a whole life.”

Cullen frowned while the elf remained lost in thought. He knew he would likely have to live with nightmares until his last days, even if that perspective was not something he was looking forward to.

“Some hunters used to gather around the campfire, some nights” Aodren resumed. “Hunters who were hurting inside. They could spend hours together without sharing any word, and yet they seemed to feel better anyway.”

“Veterans often do the same” the commander said with a nod. “Being with people who can understand what you’ve been through can be a real relief.”

Their gazes locked again while they shared a shy smile.

“Can I come back, then?” the dalish asked quietly.

“Anytime.”

\----

A new routine began for them after that. Aodren would come by to take a nap in the afternoon, talk to Cullen for a bit before sleeping, and then leave with a small wave. They wouldn’t see each other until dinner, a meal the commander tried to attend as often as possible.

The bonds between the Inquisitor’s companions had tightened as they went through what fate had decided to burden them with. They met with the Chargers sometimes, and those evenings were memorable. Especially since the Iron Bull and Dorian got closer… intimately. Apparently, everybody already knew but him, even Cassandra.

“Come on, Curly, don’t be prissy” Varric kindly joked before taking a sip of his ale. “You’re in no position to do so.”

Cullen almost choked on his own beer and the dwarf laughed, kindly patting his back.

“What do you mean?” the commander asked, his voice slightly high pitched.

“Don’t try this with me” Varric whispered with a conspiratorial look.

Cullen stared, his eyes wide. Varric held his gaze and then whistled.

“Shit, you really have no idea what I’m talking about, have you?”

“Well, no?” Cullen mumbled, resisting the urge to wiggle on his chair under the searching eyes of his comrade.

Varric leaned against the back of his chair, slowly shaking his head.

“Shit…” he said again, and emptied his drink.

Cullen honestly didn’t know if he’d rather know what the dwarf was talking about or stay ignorant.

After dinner, he would go back to his room to continue his work, and Aodren would come find him later in the night. He would sit on the chair on the opposite of Cullen’s desk and they would share a companionable silence. Sometimes, the elf brought a book with him to read while the commander was deep in the scouts’ reports. On other nights, Cullen asked him his opinion about some papers, or complained about the scrawly handwriting of his subordinates, which always made the Inquisitor giggle. They would leave each other a few hours later, the night already late but their hearts lighter and a smile on their lips.

The assault on Samson’s lair changed everything, once again.

As they tracked down red lyrium, smugglers and the ex-Templar, Cullen had been more and more restless, becoming nervous and impatient. The soldiers did their best to avoid his wrath, even if they knew it wasn’t personal. He and Cassandra almost argued openly in the courtyard, before leaving as two hot-headed teenagers, each standing their ground. He didn’t even remember what their argument was about.

That night, when Aodren had come by, Cullen knew he was looking as miserable as he was feeling. The elf had sat next to him without a word, only placing his hand onto the other’s arm. After a while, he had finally murmured:

“We will find him. I promise.”

And they did find Samson. Every information matched, all they needed to do was go there and catch the man. When Cullen asked to be part of the mission, Aodren agreed without hesitation.

It was the first time they really fought side by side, watching each other’s back. Cullen had already seen the Inquisitor fight from afar, but to see him in action next to him, swirling his staff and summoning lightning and thunderbolts was impressive… and terrifying.

He put his unease onto the red lyrium surrounding them. When it persisted after they returned to Skyhold, he blamed the stress he had been under these past few days.

Aodren didn’t stay long, that night. Had he sensed Cullen wouldn’t be good company? Probably. After all, he had stayed silent during the trip back and hadn’t had dinner with the others, staying alone in his room. The Inquisitor had only been polite by coming by.

Cullen rubbed his temples with a sigh. He knew he was reacting poorly. He only needed some rest.

He went to bed reluctantly, his stomach strangely knotted.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by the nightmares that assaulted him as soon as he had his eyes closed. He was used to the demons of the Tower Circle, used to the screams of his comrades and friends slaughtered one after the other, used to his own screaming burning his throat.

He didn’t expect the mage who tortured him that night to wear Aodren’s face.

He didn’t understand straight away what awakened him, shaking and panting, until he felt cold hands on his forehead.

“…len? Cullen?”

He turned his head, feeling nauseous. Next to him, the elf was looking at him, worry in his eyes, so different from those that had hurt him in his sleep.

Cullen freed himself with a jerk, trembling. Aodren let him, slightly moving away.

“I heard you scream” he explained quietly. “I tried to wake you up, but…”

Cullen closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands. Each breath hurt. He thought he was stronger than that. He felt the bed lower next to him.

“Can I touch you?” the dalish asked, uncertain.

He nodded weakly, incapable of saying anything. He tensed, as if his body expected another spell to hit him and break him. But nothing came. Slowly, Aodren stroked the back of his neck with such gentleness Cullen felt like crying. The elf started humming, but even if the words made no sense for him, they felt… familiar, somehow, and soothing.

After a while, his breathing came back to normal, as the beating of his heart. Listening to the song slowly woke him from his torpor, and he lifted his head up. The elf smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do” he murmured. “Can I look after you?” he added, his hand still stroking his neck gently.

Cullen nodded once again, his throat too tight to try to speak properly. He felt Aodren move on the bed and pull him against the cushions. He let himself indulge in the Inquisitor’s hands, as malleable as a ragdoll. Aodren folded the sheets onto them both, keeping Cullen in his arms with a protective grip.

When was the last time someone took care of him like that? When was the last time he let someone be in control for him? He shivered and embraced the elf, placing his arm around his waist to seek a touch he didn’t know he needed. Under him, Aodren began humming again, and Cullen fell asleep once more, but this time no nightmare came.

Waking up happened to be difficult. Cullen half-opened his eyes slowly, slightly dazed, the events of the day before like a blur in his memory. Beneath him, he could feel the slow breathing of someone still asleep. He opened his eyes completely, and realised that yes, he was confined in a firm embrace, the body he used as a pillow was the Herald, and he was embracing him too.

Maker.

He took a breath, remembering his nightmare and Aodren. He stayed still, enjoying the moment for a few more minutes before trying to get himself out of the other’s arms without waking him. But despite his best efforts, Aodren stirred with a yawn and he caught the sleepy eyes.

“’Morning,” the elf whispered with a small smile.

Cullen knew he was blushing, and the amused grin made him blush deeper.

“Good morning,” he answered with the same tone, embarrassed.

Aodren placed his hand in his hair and started fondling it tenderly.

“How do you feel?” he asked, concern in his voice.

Cullen swallowed. He had no idea how he was supposed to answer the gesture. He felt clumsy, uncertain, and yet, he felt like he was right where he was supposed to be. It was a weird feeling, and he couldn’t understand it entirely.

“Better” he answered, giving a sheepish smile. Aodren was looking at him patiently. “Thank you for this night” he added.

The dalish hummed slowly, still stroking his head and rubbing his scalp.

“You should go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

The commander hesitated. He had a lot of work to take care of, reports he had to read, decisions to make, but…

“I can stay, if you want” Aodren said with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Cullen laid back against him. The happy sigh the elf made when he closed his arms around him made him smile.

They could enjoy a moment of peace for a little longer.

\----

Cullen briefly thought their routine would resume itself, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. The days looked like each other, yet they had been completely different since that night, even if Cullen couldn’t pinpoint what had changed exactly. Dorian inadvertently told him.

“You seem happy, Commander” he said with a grin.

Cullen was looking for a book in the library. He turned towards the other man, his hand still in the air, but the title he had in mind for Aodren completely forgotten.

“What do you mean?” he asked, blinking in surprise.

“You smile more, you seem more well-rested, you laugh when Bull and Varric make stupid jokes…” Dorian listed with a satisfied look. “If I didn’t already know, Commander, I’d say you’re in love.”

Cullen almost protested, but he stopped straight away.

When he was younger, he thought he would find his soulmate like one of the heroes in Mia’s books, those about chivalry and great adventures he used to steal sneakily to read in his room. He would save a beautiful young lady, or she would rescue him while he was hurt, and he would know it was _her_ when their eyes would meet. They would learn to know each other, they would face the challenges life would throw at them, and if possible they would defeat a terrible opponent along the way.

He then became a Templar. Love was not encouraged, even if their trainers turned a blind eye to the recruits’ night trips. If we don’t get found out, we don’t get caught, and a satisfied teenager was more focused on their training.

Cullen didn’t want one-night stands. He was a romantic at heart, and the few times he had gone with his comrades, he had regretted it.

And then… then the Circle Tower happened, and then Kirkwall, the Breach and Corypheus.

All those years, his priority had been to survive, to move forward and find new goals to reach. He never thought he would fall in love in such a mess of a world, neither that he would fall for another man.

And yet, now that Dorian had told him, it seemed so, so utterly obvious.

“I’m in love,” he murmured, breathless.

Dorian burst into laughter, his eyes shining and his moustache quivering.

“If I can reassure you, Commander, know that it is entirely mutual.”

Startled, Cullen stared at the mage with wide eyes. Dorian made a vague gesture with his hand, outraged.

“Not me, you fool. If I had a crush on you, I assure you I wouldn’t have had the patience our dear Inquisitor had with you. He deserves some kind of recognition, you know.”

Cullen had an embarrassed laugh. Dorian folded his arms and leaned against one of the many bookcases.

“He is in the courtyard with Cassandra, if this information is of any interest to you” the mage added, smug about the outcome. “Oh, Cullen?”

The commander, who was already leaving, turned around slightly.

“You two make a lovely couple.” Dorian smiled amiably. 

This time, Cullen blushed. He left quickly, reaching the courtyard with wide steps. He searched for Aodren, whom he found with Cassandra indeed. The Seeker was hitting the training dummies with her sword, sweat in her brows.

“I told you iron dummies would withstand better,” the elf commented with a smirk.

Cassandra grinned and pointed her sword at him.

“Mock me all you want, Inquisitor. Cullen!” she greeted him when he approached.

Cullen returned her gesture, focusing then on Aodren. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t fail him.

“Inquisitor, may I speak to you? Privately?” he asked, holding the elf’s gaze.

“Of course.”

Cullen saw Cassandra smile out of the corner of his eyes while Aodren nodded. They moved to the commander’s room and Cullen could feel his heart beat louder with each step he was taking. He had the weird feeling everyone was watching them, that everybody _knew_.

When they arrived safely in the intimacy of his office, he turned towards the elf who was looking at him, curiosity written on his face. Before Aodren could say anything, he blurted:

“I love you.”

Aodren opened his eyes wide, taken aback, and burst into laughter. Cullen briefly felt stupid, but the dalish came next to him with a happy smile and carefully placed his hand onto his cheek. Had his eyes ever been so bright?

“I love you too” he said quietly, his gaze softening.

Cullen cupped Aodren’s face in his hands and pulled him to finally kiss him. There was no sparkle or thunderclap, but it was more than enough to at last have a taste of the soft lips.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out” Cullen murmured when they pulled apart.

Aodren rubbed his nose against his, closing his eyes with a content sigh.

“Does that mean I can sleep here every night, then?” He asked with a mischievous smile.

Cullen kissed him once more before answering:

“Every night. For however long you want to.”

When they arrived together for dinner, everybody already knew, of course. They were congratulated, everyone put their oar in, and Cullen wondered if all Skyhold had understood before him the Inquisitor had fallen for his Commander.

According to Dorian and Vivienne, yes.

The Iron Bull was the one to tell them bets had been taken behind their back. If Aodren didn’t seem surprised at all, Cullen groaned, pinching his nose in disbelief. When the Herald asked who had win, everybody stared at Leliana, who had a wide grin.

They also received some well-intentioned advices from some of them, that is to say from Dorian, Bull and Sera, who were apparently taking some perverse pleasure in seeing the others blush or look away. Fortunately, Blackwall and Solas had enough common sense to tell them not to listen and to take their time.

If someone had told Cullen he would have Solas’ approval about his relationship with the Inquisitor, he would have laughed.

No, the one who came to threaten him was Cassandra. She took him aside, crossing her arms with a serious frown and her eyes hard.

“I am happy for you both, Cullen, but I will not hesitate to intervene should anything make me think he is not treated properly” she said with a tone that indicated she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Cullen stared at her as if she had grown another head and answered coldly:

“Should anything like that happen, Cassandra, I hope you will beat me up. But I don’t think we will ever come to this.”

The Seeker apparently seemed satisfied with his answer and smiled.

“Good. Aodren told me something like that too. I think I have nothing to worry about.”

Cullen blinked slowly, and Cassandra shrugged nonchalantly.

“You are my friend too, Cullen. It was my duty to make sure he will take care of you” she explained.

He laughed quietly, touched.

“Thank you. Well, now you know you can ask me if you’re looking for him” he said jokingly.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow and replied with a grin:

“I already knew. He had told me you knew where he was sleeping and that I should come to you should I need to find him.”

Cullen sighed.

“Ah. I’m surprised Leliana won the bets, if you knew about it.”

Cassandra’s smile turned softer. She turned to watch the Inquisitor, who was talking with Vivienne.

“He trusted me. I would not have betrayed him by taking part in this. And I didn’t understand right away, Leliana did.”

She turned back to face him and added:

“I know everybody already told you so, but you are good for each other. I really am happy for you both.”

They exchanged a smile and Cullen realised he hadn’t felt this light for a very long time.

\----

Since he arrived in the Inquisition, Aodren had had strange sleeping habits. Falon’s stable, his bedroom’s balcony, between two bookshelves in the library, Skyhold’s roof, Cullen’s bed…

But between Cullen’s arms was definitely his favourite spot.


End file.
